Page 3 of Kept

Then the universe put a cherry on top of the shit sundae of my life. A new voice rang from behind me, masculine and smooth. “Jane Fawkes?”

The way that voice said my name was as intimate as fingers gliding along my spine. It was also very familiar.

I stood up and turned, ice flash-freezing through my veins as I gazed right back into pale blue eyes I hadn’t seen in years. Since high school, to be exact. When I’d been the gawky freshman with braces, and Rhett Harlow had been the tall, self-assured recent grad with messy brown hair who tutored the Creative Writing kids.

The height and hair hadn’t changed, and the spark of fire in his eyes was still there. But the lanky teen body in sweats was gone, replaced by a solid, muscular physique hidden under a crisp blue shirt and jacket with a tie, and his hair was a little less casually rumpled now.

“I knew I heard your name,” he said with satisfaction. He gave me a once-over that lit up my nerves despite my embarrassment, bringing me back to the fire I’d felt when I was a teen and head over heels for the older guy who’d pored over my immature writing with the gravity and dignity owed to an adult.

Maybe that was why I’d adored him so much.

“Rhett,” I breathed, clutching my cardigan andWuthering Heightsto my chest like a shield. “What are you doing here?”

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a sardonic little smile. “I teach here.”

“He doesn’t just teach here, he’s the head of the English department.” The professor whose day I’d ruined had straightened himself out, but his gaze still sliced through me like a diamond-bit drill cutting through glass. “Professor Harlow, to you.”

Somehow, I thought I could find it in myself to hate this unknown professor who seemed to want to crush me underfoot.

“What happened here?” Rhett-Professor Harlow- asked, eyeing the man’s stained shirt and my too-bright eyes. I blinked hard once and tried on a shaky smile.

“Miss Fawkes was just doing her best impersonation of a rodeo clown.” He shifted his briefcase and turned away. “Have the last meeting’s minutes on my desk this afternoon, Rhett.”

Rhett inclined his head once, casually leaning against the bookshelf as the man walked away, without another word. I realized I’d never learned who he was, but I prayed I’d never see him again.

“Who is he?” I asked, keeping myself to a whisper.

“You just spilled coffee on the Dean of Students, Professor Thayer. Most of us wait until the third quarter to do that.” Rhett said, not bothering to lower his voice. “You won the scholarship, I take it?”

He gave me the sort of grin that had raised butterflies in my stomach when I was younger but was now panty-melting. I was still withering from embarrassment inside, but surprise finally permeated it. I’d known his family was well-off, but he wasteachinghere…

And he said ‘scholarship’ so easily I couldn’t tell if he was poking fun at me or not. A few of the ‘congratulations’ extended my way had carried thinly-veiled disdain, but Rhett sounded… genuinely happy for me.

“I did. I guess it’s a little less surprising, given I had you for a tutor. My writing would never have improved without your work on it.” My fading blush immediately roared back to life. Could I sound like any more of a kiss-ass?

Rhett leaned in closer, the tobacco and cedar scent of his cologne washing over me. It wasn’t fair that they all smelled delicious, and when he was my tutor, he’d never given me the sort of up-down perusal like he gave me now, drinking me in from head to toe. The feeling left me breathless and quivery in a way that had nothing to do with mortification.

Knock it off, Plain Jane.

“Lucky girl,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on my loosening hair. “I should’ve known you’d be the one to win.”

My god, could he be any prettier when he smiled like that?

“I’m sure there were plenty of other deserving students,” I said, hoping to deflect the warm glow of happiness that bubbled up in me. He’d read my horrific fourteen-year-old writing, for god’s sake. You’d think a decade would be enough to quash that fluttery adolescent infatuation.

Not so, it turned out.

“Of all the students I tutored, there’s only one who stood out above the others.” His smile widened when I shifted in place, clearly uncomfortable under his stare. “What do you say we catch up for old time’s sake? I can give you the low-down on Bourdillon before classes start, and you can tell me what you’ve been up to the last decade.”

I really shouldn’t. The words were right there on my lips. He was a professor, my past tutor, and I was… a scholarship student with a mountain of debt. Worlds below him.

My mouth didn’t get the common-sense memo. “I’d love that. When?”

“Let’s see. I just saw Gabriel over there talking to Mrs. Clarke. He always ends up pulling the new student tours, so I’ll let him get it out of the way and meet you back here. Your new boss leaves at eight, so… fifteen after. Give Mrs. Clarke a chance to get out of here so we can have the place to ourselves.” He sucked his lower lip between his teeth and bit down, released it with a coy smile.

My heart kicked into a quivering tempo that seemed to hover in my throat. Staying at work after-hours to meet with a prof… I hadn’t readeveryline of fine print, but there was a stipulation against seeming impropriety in the scholarship contract. Did this qualify?

Rhett seemed to read the hesitance in my face. “No one’s going to be upset that you found a mentor so soon, Jane. We want our students to feel at home. In fact, it would be remiss of me to not help you learn your role here.”

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